A Foray

The time has come. In a matter of days, I'll be shoving my things into temperamental yet faithful Dino and heading down to Nashville.

I can't believe it...

This weekend was the start of a long process of saying goodbye to everything (everyone) I've known to be "home."

Saturday found me misty-eyed as I drove through the familiar streets of downtown Philadelphia. I gave a respectful nod to old Billy Penn perched high atop City Hall, looking down over his dear children, we Philadelphians, who so often forget his presence until, like me, we go away. I laughed as once again I missed a turn and had to take a long detour to get back on track. (This seems the story of my life.)

Last night I spent an evening with my dear friends from my old church. A mishmash of people I've known for almost a decade. Most of these relationships have grown (evolved) over the years - from the days when I'd taught them in Sunday School or College to our present state as peers. Brothers and sisters. Friends. And as they came over to tell me how excited they were for me, how much they'd all miss me and expected me back for visits, as they each one-by-one gave me their final goodbye hug, I felt a tiny crack surface on my heart and tears burn the backs of my eyes.

In an hour I meet with a friend for lunch. Tonight I'll be surrounded by dear city friends, old and new. The rest of the week will be a whirlwind of packing, tying up loose ends, shopping for last minute things and a few more goodbye dinners strewn about.

I'm starting to realize how hard this is going to be/get.

Danger! DANGER, Will Robinson!!!

I am now 3 weeks away from the big move. I'm excited. Really excited, but scared out my gourd lately. Being constantly reminded of "the state of the economy" helps little to quell the nervousness invading my senses.

This is a dangerous place I find myself in. Every part the control-freak, I'm floundering here. I can't see past the next step (if even that). Can't make my usual 4 or 5 contingency plans. I am completely and utterly out of my element. And God is in no way drawing the curtains back to give me a sneak peek into what's to come. Instead He's calling me to trust Him.

Trust in [Me]. Lean not on your own understanding or what you think is best or rational. Acknowledge Me... even HERE in your worrisome state. Watch as I move mountains for you, child. I'll clear the path before you. Just trust Me and walk where I lead.

I'm hoping against all hope for this burden of fear to lift come daybreak.

The End of One Thing... The Beginning of Another

In about a month and a half, I will be leaving Philadelphia... finally! In 6 weeks I will packing my things and heading down to Music City (aka Nashville).

It's been a long time coming - full of detours and pitfalls - but, it's happening. Really, truly happening! I am leaving this bubble, spreading my wings. And I'm crap-in-my-pants happy/excited/scared to death.

17 Days or 2.5 Weeks, If You Prefer

In roughly 2.5 weeks (17 days to be exact) I'll be saying saiyonara to my twenties. I couldn't be more scared or thrilled about it.

These past 10 years have been a journey. Full of hills and valleys, and laden with detours. It's been exhausting and confusing trying to find me along this untraveled, uncharted path. I have hated it.

But, finally, FINALLY, I am coming into my own. Finding my stride. Breathing freer.

It's almost as if the little plastic flakes in my snow globe of a life are finally settling in. Falling into place and resting softly. And as they do, I think I'm able to see clearly... Now that the storms are passing... Now that the skies are parting and the sun is breaking through.

The next 2 months are going to be scarily heartwrenching: Saying good-bye to the old me, to this "life" I've "lived" for so long and to move on from here. To move on. To run away and run towards something else. Blindly. Without reason or certainty.

It's terrifying, but I can hardly wait!

Myers-Briggs

I am, sadly, an INFJ through and through.

For some reason late last night (we're talking 1:45am, people!) I decided to read up on some articles about my personality type. The articles were so accurate my head was reeling. It was as if someone had followed me around, studying each and every move, thought or decision I'd made... all my life!

There is some comfort in reading that Jesus was believed to be an INFJ (as were Mother Teresa and Martin Luther King, Jr.), but I am still crestfallen to realize (yet again) I will most likely (allow myself to) be taken advantage of a lot because of the fact that I thrive when helping people. I "live to serve" as one article puts it. I put others before myself and give... to the point where I am left aching and drained. Parched.

--------

A friend and I had a conversation the other day about, what else, guys and relationships and how neither of us knows how to approach/find/receive healthy ones (and normal, stable guys for that matter).

She'd divulged some insight into the mysterious creature that is man-guy, wisdom she'd gleaned from a close guy friend. Apparently, everything about me turns guys off: I am too "helpful"; too eager to dole out concern/care/advice; too available; too "religious" for most of the general population of men.

So, my options are to:
1. not be me and intentionally do everything counter to what is natural, what is me
2. join an abbey/nunnery
3. become a recluse living high up in the mountains where I would end up talking to squirrels and painting pictures with wild berry "paint" and scat
4. sign up for a stint on that Russian space station [Anyone have a million dollars you can loan me? I promise I'll pay it back! *wink*]
5. engulf myself in Jane Austen novels and pray that Mr. Darcy is really out there... somewhere
6. close up shop for good and become crazy cat-lady who schleps around in house slippers, hair nets and moomoos [FYI: I'm not too fond of cats]
7. be happy and content in who I am and trust that somehow, some way God will bring about a man who is the bees knees in every which way imaginable [There I go being "religious" again!]





Right now, options 2 and 5 are looking mighty appealing...

Pwned

While playing a game of Hangman with the boys I'm watching tonight, one of them popped out a word I'd never heard...

I am deflated.

*shrug of shoulders*

Never [Being] Kissed

General Musing du Jour:



Sometimes I wonder if this is why I'm still checking off the "single" box?

Out With the Old...

I read this quote on a friend's profile:

in life we have two plans we can follow...the culture plan or GOD's plan. culture plan says to find your groove, settle & establish, earn & save, consolidate & maintain speed, & die...or you can choose to run towards GOD's plan...which is, 'follow me with abandon at every age with an eager expectation that I will use your life for MY purpose in the world. risk always. never completely settle, always look toward heaven for answers. be MINE. be different. die GLORIOUSLY!' - louie giglio

I am, I'll admit it, scared to no end these days. The things and places God is leading me towards have no clear set steps to follow. I just know I must go...

... even though the economy makes it very likely that finding a "good" job will be difficult.
... even though I know I will (and AM!) scared out of my mind at the possibility of failing.
... even if I am found crying and wounded in "failure."
... even if the little I've saved so far will slip through my fingers when push comes to shove.

I must go away from here. This place that has been home and familiar for all my congizant days. This place that has been the backdrop of who I was (am) becoming (thus far).

People tell me repeatedly to take that leap of faith, but fear and panic leaden my feet.

To move away from this city to another farther away - to go there with no place to live and no bread to win - is foolish and rash to those who are rational. [I know this because I was once one of them.] But given the option of pursuing my heart's desire (and His, hopefully!) or wasting away where I am... I would hope I'd run after the first and heed God's call to Gideon: "Be strong and courageous."

When Waking Up is the Hardest Part

I am coming to terms with the fact that I've not been chosen. Again.

I am limping and wounded, riding waves of self-deprecation, confusion, embarrassment, bitterness and numbness. (I rather like the numb moments lately)

I'm feeling my heart close up again. The brain is pouring grout on the cracks of my heart. Sealing it up. Shellacking it.

I so just want to shut down right now... And all my friends can say is, let it out.

Let it out. It's good for you. It hurts like hell, but it's good.

But I don't want to. The pain hurts too much.

I'd rather do without, thank you, if it's all the same to you.

Senses Fail

I cried last night. A lot. The deep, heaving kind. The kind that rushes over you without warning like a sudden storm over tranquil seas. It was a perfect storm as they say and it knocked my off my feet.

At the advice of Rebs, I took a long, hot shower, hoping it would wash him out. Praying the streams would dissolve these aches and wounds he'd caused. They didn't.


Today I am numb. I don't want to think or feel. Anything.

The songs I play to pass the time here at my desk are just noise. Empty. Without meaning. Without tune.

I don't want to eat, but I am, because I refuse to be that girl - the one who is lovesick and achey and wasting away. Sadly, though, when I eat, food has little taste. I eat to live even when I want parts of me to die.

My heart has short-circuited the rest of me.

My senses fail.

I am a walking ghost.

History in the Making (aka The Only Political Post You Will EVER See Here)

[I've been editing this while at work. Work has been BADDDD... Needless to say this blog will no doubt be choppy, confusing and hard to follow. Sorry!]


Tonight, we, as a united, free people, elected our next president. It was (and will remain) a pivotal moment in history.

I was encouraged by both candidates tonight: Senator McCain bowed out gracefully and encouraged his supporters to do the same. The hope and pure elation, the joyful disbelief and satisfaction on the faces of millions the world over, was emotional to say the least.

As the celebrations continued through the night and as many chanted "Yes, we did!"... an uneasy feeling settled in my heart. One that woke me in the middle of the night.

I could not help, but wonder if, in the midst of all the celebrations, we (God's people, Christ followers) had forgotten about His role here. To those who cheered "Yes, we did!" I wanted to remind them that we had done nothing in comparison to what He has done. And, I worry about the countless radicals out there in our land. I fear their reaction, but hope we all will learn to be open-minded and respect each other.

As excited as I am to have my choice for president in office (come January), and as amazing as it is to live in a time when we have proven to the world and our ancestors that anything is possible, I'm holding onto the hope that lies deep within me - the hope that relies on the sovereinty and wisdom of my Creator God. Without Him, our president will fail... no matter how motivated and talented in leadership he may be.

Republican. Democrat. Moderate. Conservative. LIberal. Left. Right. What does it matter in God's eyes? I'm looking to my God to grant our new leader the wisdom, strength, discernment, courage and sound mind he'll need to run a country in desperate need of change.

To My Mother on Her 52nd(?) Birthday

Dear Mom,

Today as the nation heads to the voting boothes and as the world waits in anticipation to witness history in the making, I look to you in thanks.

Thank you for the years of sacrifice. For the strength you've shown over the years - enduring a loveless marriage, single-parenting, second jobs to put us through school, for pushing aside your physical/emotional pains for our sake. You drive me crazy and make me want to run screaming in the opposite direction, but thank you for the (odd) way you love me (us).

Today, I pray for a good year. I know that you're worried and scared about the future, especially with the financial uncertainty you've faced this past year, but I beg you to remember that you are still under the watchful eye of a loving, faithful God. He has sustained and provided for you in the past and will do so now and in the years to come. Just hold onto Him. Trust Him. Lift your cares and worries to Him instead carrying this burden alone. It's not yours to bear. You are loved by your Jehovah Jirah, your gentle Shepherd, a loving Father.

I pray He grows you this year. That He'll stretch your faith. Whether or not you want to face it, your children are grown now. We will both be leaving soon (me sooner than you're prepared for). I pray the Lord continues to mold in you a strength and dependence on Him, and not me anymore. You are stronger, wiser and more capable than you think. And when you are not, He is, so don't worry.

I know you're still not physically as strong as you once were, and you probably won't be once the doctors give you the green light, but that's OK. Seek His strength when you are weak. Seek His hand when you've no strength to stand alone. Remember Christ suffers and bears this pain with you.

You are not alone, mom. You never will be.

I don't say this as much as I should, but... I love you. You drive me insane, but I love you.

Happy birthday, umma!


Your daughter,

Annie

Annie Queries

The fear that I could have something is almost as scary as the not having it at all.

Is this normal? Do you ever get this way? Or am I the lone passenger in this streetcar named Desire?

As Is

That's me in a nutshell. "AS IS."

Broken.
Scared.
Wanting.
Hoping.
Caring too much.
Heart on Sleeve.
Way too tapped into her emotions.
Weepy.
Angry.
Confused.
Heartbroken.

I'm just sitting in the Clearance Aisle.
A little busted up, but so wanting to be chosen.

EDIT: "If You're Not First, You're Last"

So says Ricky Bobby. And in a way, I think this sentiment holds true in my life.

I want everyone (all of you) to be happy... even at my expense. And in doing so - in wanting everyone to be fulfilled - I'm often left wanting. Waiting. Hoping. Crying. Alone. As much as I believe and long for all of you to find your heart's desires, I can't seem to find a way to mine.

Someone has been on my heart for some time. I have prayed for him and prayed over him. Prayed that God would draw him closer to Himself. That God would pour His mercy and grace upon him so that he would breathe in the freedom of trusting and loving his Savior. Prayed that God would do these things with/out regard for my heart or how it feels, but, for his sake above anything else.

Tears have been shed as I've tried to rationalize all of this. I had hoped that I could somehow spare myself the pain of not being chosen. Again. Hoped that my brain and reason would best my heart and its whirlwind of emotions.

Mission: FAILED









Last night my city, Philadelphia, had its first taste of victory in decades. The entire city erupted with joy. For years people held on with hope and for years were left heartbroken. And as the people crowded the streets breathing in victory, a small, pea-sized hope grew in me. A hope that maybe this time love would find me at last.

Today, however, I am confused and scared once again. The edges of my heart are fraying and hardening again. The cocoon is being built up again around the soft parts. And my heart is preparing to be let down again. To be discarded and turned down again.

I don't like this. The ambiguity and possible (probable) delusions of grandeur have me dizzy, crying and itching for answers. I want to know, but I don't.




Times like these, I wish we all could win.

Hi. My name is Annie and I'm an...

Yesterday, I cried and pleaded with God.

I was so drunk with thought, I became nauseous. My brain was spiky and the light hurt my bloodshot eyes. The world was spinning and I was shivering, suffering a hangover of sorts.

I'm in dire need of AA for the Heart.

I Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself...

The heart - correction: my heart - is irrational.

I am, for the most part a person of reason and thought. I like to prepare for what's ahead and plan out the best course of action after mulling over the pros and cons. I'm a "just in case" kind of gal.

But when my heart is involved... even just a little bit? Fogettaboudit. It's all fogs and chaos and questions and roads that lead to Nowheresville.

*sigh* I don't know what to do. The brain rattles with thoughts. The heart aches for answers. And I am drifting as I try to find God's cool waters and rest.

These Photographs and the Mirror Has Two Faces

My mom tore up most of the photos of my dad after the divorce. I guess it was her way of forgetting about him and the pain he'd caused our "family."

A few years back while leafing through old photos, I came across one she'd missed. An old photograph of the two of us, daddy and me; of a tiny baby Annie, naked - save for my diaper - and laughing as I sat on my dad's lap. I took that photo and hid it. Partly to remember the dad I now mourn so... the one that disappeared years ago, and partly for my future children so they would at least know what their grandfather looked like... even if they would never meet him.





I am my father's daughter. I have his puffy, baggy eyes and his full-lipped smile. His round cheeks, short neck and stocky, muscular build. I have his chubby hands and feet that aren't graceful or lithe like a woman's hands should be, but strong and decisive and heavy. I am the female version of him. A clone in ways.

There are days when I can't bear to look in the mirror or at old elementary school pictures. Looking at my young face, I see his and it breaks my heart. And sometimes, I wonder if my mom has ever felt the same way as she looked at me. Wondered if she saw him, the man who had tore her heart to pieces, in me.

I see him, even when I don't.

There Goes My Hero...

A few days ago a friend and I had a LONG discussion on matters at the forefront of both our hearts. He shared his anger and frustration at the social injustices he witnessed all around: at work, on the streets, everywhere. It enraged him to see the poor slighted and dismissed, uncared for and forgotten. The growing chasm between the those in the upper echelons of the financial caste system and the poor breaks his heart. And yet... He was heartbroken and ashamed to say that he does nothing to help reconcile the situation. Another victim in a growing trend of self-preservation.

Where is God's justice?

If you have kept up with the news lately - in between the latest democratic-republican brawl for the white house - you may have learned that former American Idol contestant, Jennifer Hudson's mother and brother were murdered. (I've learned that police believe her young nephew was also believed to have been killed as well). Police believe an estranged and recently paroled family member may be the culprit. The reason for this killing spree? A car. A crappy, piece of metal and chrome.



Times like these I, too, wonder where God is and when He will bring about His righteous justice. Especially when His calling us to patience and trust results in so many people suffering. I just don't know.



Yesterday one of our assistant pastors , Jared, challenged us to believe and trust in the sovereignty of God. When things are grand and life is good. But, especially when times are rough and confusing and pain echoes in the faces of the people around us. Seek the greatness of God in these times.

Trust in His wisdom, not yours.
Trust that He will make right all that has gone so terribly wrong.
Trust His heart breaks, too.
Trust that He's coming, running, racing towards us (all of us) with grace and mercy in His hands.

He, the Great Judge, will set things right.

Just hold tight and wait... Hope is coming and redemption is in the air.

Avril Lavigne Has Me Down...

Why is it that I'm drawn to complicated things when all I want to do is to take the high and easy road?

Why do I have to go and make things so complicated?